


Into the Dragon's Den

by BrookeLeeann



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Embarrassment, F/M, Humiliation, Master/Servant, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Graphic Violence, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:44:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3893413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrookeLeeann/pseuds/BrookeLeeann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You had been summoned, for what you were not sure—the servant he had sent to collect you had said only that he required immediate audience with you—but nevertheless you could not keep him waiting. The dragon did not take kindly to waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Dragon's Den

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zariakthedarklord](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=zariakthedarklord).



> Prompt: "Hook me up with some Viserys x Reader tho lmao Anything you want"

You made your way down one of the many corridors within Illyrio’s palace toward Viserys Targaryen’s chambers, trying your best to maintain a swift pace so as not to anger the tempestuous man. You had been summoned, for what you were not sure—the servant he had sent to collect you had said only that he required immediate audience with you—but nevertheless you could not keep him waiting. The dragon did not take kindly to waiting.

You came to a stop before the large arched door that led to his bedchambers, smoothing your skirts before lifting your fist to rap twice against the thick wood. A moment later, you heard his voice call from within. “Enter.” A hint of annoyance was detectable in his tone, although that wasn’t particularly unusual. With a push, the door swung heavily on its hinges and you stepped into the spacious room. 

You had already recognized Illyrio’s manse as nothing short of impressive, but this particular room was far more elaborate and beautiful than any other you had seen in the palace. The floors were made up of a pale, reflective marble which shone under the candlelight. Above you, an elaborate crystal chandelier which held a hundred peach-hued candles was suspended from the vaulted ceiling, and centered against the far wall sat an enormous feather bed with a veiled canopy and a seemingly endless amount of pillows.  _A bed fit for a king_ , you thought idly.

The balcony doors were wide open, allowing a gentle evening breeze to waft through the doorway and sway the windows’ white, sheer curtains. Before the balcony, built into the marble floor was a large pool of steaming water in which Viserys was currently bathing, his back to you. You modestly averted your eyes and cleared your throat. You weren’t expecting to encounter him under this circumstance. “Good evening, Your Grace,” you began. “You called for me?”

Viserys glanced over his shoulder at you before conceding, “Ah, yes, I did.” He gestured toward a small series of shelves against the brick wall. “Grab that purple vial for me.” Without a word, you hastily crossed the room, plucked the indicated vial from the shelf, and went to the edge of the bath, outstretching your arm and holding the little bottle out to him. He raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Well, go on then. Pour some into my bath.”

You blinked at him, a bit dumbfounded, but quickly forced yourself to recover so as to avoid looking stupid. Uncapping the vial, you knelt and emptied a small portion of its contents into the steaming water. Immediately, the room became engulfed in the sweet aroma of lavender, but it did little to ease your tension. You almost always felt uneasy in the presence of the last dragon. You stole a peek at him through your lashes, and your heart skipped a beat upon finding him watching you. You quickly looked away, focusing your attention on replacing the cork in the vial and returning it to the shelf, feeling warmth flood your cheeks along the way. You didn’t want to blush, but his gaze had a way of making you feel self-conscious and uncomfortable.

After placing the bottle back in the location you retrieved it from, you spin around to face your king, keeping your head low and awaiting your next order. However, what came next was something you were not expecting.

“Take off your clothes,” he drawled. 

You snapped your head up to stare at him, bewildered, and one corner of his lips slowly turned up into a smirk. You opened and closed your mouth stupidly, floundering for words, as he watched you expectantly. “Y-Your Grace,” you finally stuttered, “I can't—I mean, I don’t know if I can do that.” The blush that had previously heated your cheeks now seemed to flare throughout your entire body, and your heartbeat thrummed deafeningly in your ears.

Viserys’ smirk suddenly morphed into a scowl. “You can, and you will,” he growled. “You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?” No, you did not. You had heard horror stories of what happened to servants who did not obey his commands, of the things he did to them, and had even seen some of the marks they bore after the dragon’s awakening. You did not wish to wear similar scars on your own skin. You hung your head, tears stinging hot in your eyes. Viserys cocked his head to one side in an attempt to view your face which had become concealed by your hair. “Do you?” he reiterated.

You slowly shook your head. “No, Your Grace.” Your voice was a mere whisper.

Viserys leaned backward against the marble backrest of the pool, wearing a look of smug satisfaction. “Good,” he said. “Then get on with it.”

You hesitated briefly before tugging at the laces of your gown with trembling fingers and loosening the garment. You tugged your skirts at the hips, freeing the dress from your body and letting it pool around your ankles. You glanced upward to peer at the silver king. He was watching you patiently, which was rather unusual for a very impatient man. You began to remove your small-clothes but abruptly halted in the process. You felt dreadfully shy and embarrassed under his gaze. You didn’t particularly want to bare yourself before him, but the glint in his eyes urged you to continue. 

“Go on,” he encouraged, a nefarious grin painted on his face. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

You returned your attention to removing the last of your clothes, and soon you were left shivering and exposed before the sardonic king. You fixed your eyes on your twiddling thumbs—ashamed—and waited. 

Viserys inhaled slowly. The water audibly shifted around him as he suddenly held out a hand to you. “Come here, my dear,” he murmured.

You compelled your legs to move, despite wanting nothing more than to redress and flee, and approached the bath’s edge. You timidly grasped his warm, damp hand, and gently, he tugged you toward him into the steaming pool, submerging your naked form beneath the sweltering water and pulling you onto his lap to straddle him. You struggled to avoid meeting his eyes, but this proved difficult as you could practically feel them roving over you and scrutinizing your expression.

“Look at me,” he impelled you. You looked at him. “Are you afraid of me?”

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “Yes, Your Grace,” you answered truthfully.

“Why?” he pressed, tilting his head quizzically. His eyes seemed to be searching yours.

You glance down at your fists, which were idly resting upon Viserys’ chest. You didn’t know what to say. “I’m afraid of— of what you’ll do to me,” you began. You returned your wary gaze to his intense, violet eyes. “I’m afraid I’ll wake the dragon. I’m afraid that you’ll hurt me.”

Your answer seemed to please him. “I won’t hurt you, darling,” he simpered, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Unless, of course, you give me a reason to.” You blanched. You weren’t sure what sort of things would qualify as reason enough for him to harm you, but judging from the dragon’s infamous short temper, you suspected it wasn’t much. Imagining his enmity sent a shudder rippling along your spine. He laughed. “Don’t look so frightened, my dear,” he cooed. “You’ve done nothing to stir the dragon from his slumber yet.”

“Y-yes, Your Grace.” You tried to find comfort in his smile, although you knew he wore it to express his amusement rather than to offer any actual consolation. Still, you managed to pretend long enough to alleviate some of your apprehension. You smiled shyly at him.

“Much better.” He traced your jawline with a slender finger before sliding his hand behind you to grasp the nape of your neck. His violet eyes met yours briefly before flicking to your lips, his smile fading slightly as a hunger began to overtake him. The way that his gaze was fixated on your mouth made something stir deep within you, and then you weren’t afraid anymore. 

His other hand came to rest upon your cheek, and he roughly pulled your face toward his own, deliberately taking your bottom lip between his teeth and sucking gingerly. You shivered, but not from fear. He released your lip and exhaled softly. You uncurled your fingers and clutched his bare shoulders, subtly urging him to continue. Suddenly, he took your chin in his grasp and jerked your head to the side, dipping his mouth to your neck and ravenously kissing you beneath the crook of your jaw. A delicious tingle crept through your loins and gradually intensified into a searing heat that left you mewling in Viserys’ ear for more.

He pulled away and took your face in both of his hands, then pressed his lips, finally, against your own, sloppily pushing his tongue into your mouth and exhaling heavily. His hands trailed down the length of your body, came to a stop at your hips, and then traveled back up to fondle the soft tissue of your breasts. He kneaded them riotously until it was nearly painful, but you didn’t care. You reveled in the harsh attention he gave you. His lips moved hotly against yours as you flicked your tongue rhythmically against his and moaned into his mouth. It wasn’t often that you shared such intimacy with kings, so you were savoring every moment of it.

Viserys relinquished his hold of one of your supple breasts, and his hand began its leisure descent, brushing past your navel and disappearing into the water, lower,  _lower_ …

There was a delicate knock on the door.

Viserys ripped his mouth away from you and exhaled exasperatedly, his head snapping in the direction of the door. “Go away!” he shouted shrilly, causing your heart to leap within your chest. He returned his attention to you, beginning his greedy assault on your mouth again, before another short succession of knocks came. Internally, you whined. “What in all the gods— WHAT DO YOU WANT?” he shouted indignantly. He gave you an unceremonious push, and you splashed clumsily backward.

The chamber’s heavy door noisily creaked open, and His Grace’s sister, Daenerys, stepped daintily through the archway. “Viserys,” she squeaked. Her skin appeared drained of all color and her slight frame was quivering.

Viserys glared stormily at her. “What now, you sniveling child?” he snarled. “Do you wish to wake the dragon?”

Daenerys’ eyes widened, and her lower lip quivered. “No, brother.” Her voice was nearly a whisper.

“Then what do you want?” Viserys regarded his younger sibling with a thinly veiled rage that reminded you of just how much he truly frightened you.

Daenerys lowered her violet gaze. “I had another nightmare.”

Viserys’ face softened fractionally, but his eyes were still narrowed as his sister fidgeted uncomfortably by the doorway. “Go back to bed, Dany,” he grumbled. “I’ll be there momentarily.” Although he was a king, he still held certain obligations as a brother.

The small girl nodded before hastily retreating to her own bedchambers.  
When Viserys looked upon you again, his eyes were cold and bitter. “Get out,” he ordered bluntly. You flinched.

“Your Grace—” You wanted to calm him.You wanted things to continue as they were just moments ago, but the incredulous look on his face told you that wasn’t going to happen.

“You heard me. Get out,” he said again. His tone was scathing. “Now.”

Without any further attempt of protesting, you stood from the bath, feeling a bit light-headed from your prolonged exposure to the scalding water, and stepped upward onto level marble. You scooped your gown and small-clothes from the floor and dressed nimbly, avoiding another glance at Viserys entirely. You felt shunned and humiliated, wanting nothing more now than to retire from his presence. Your still damp feet pattered quietly against the stone as you crossed the room, and the door gave one final groan on its hinges as you left the silver dragon in his chambers to brood alone.


End file.
